


Marijuana Smoke and Mirrors

by Decaykid



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotionally Repressed, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Pining, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-18 00:38:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18975403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decaykid/pseuds/Decaykid
Summary: Behind Klaus' carefree mask is a mourning soul.





	Marijuana Smoke and Mirrors

It’s late afternoon in the late spring, warm orange gold sunlight is filtering in through the translucent curtains of the room’s only window, filling the room with a soft sort of glow. It’s the perfect lighting, Klaus thinks, for Ben.

 

Klaus is sitting on the bed, propped up by the corner of the wall, shirt discarded somewhere on the floor with the rest of the mess. Ben is perched elegantly on the desk, legs crossed, hand resting on his knee and he’s bent over a book, deeply engrossed in a fictional world, eyes intense with a furrow in his brow, basking in the warm glow of the sunlight.

 

He looks beautiful, ethereal even, and the familiar ache in Klaus’ chest returns. It’s the ache he gets in moments like these, when he’s reminded he can’t touch Ben, can’t have Ben, that even though he’s here, he’s gone because his life was cut too short. It’s the ache of what-ifs and could-have-beens. It’s the longing for something he can’t have: the press of lips, of fingertips on skin, the taste of him on his tongue and even the innocent stuff like his scent or a hug or the feel of his warm body as they fall asleep sharing a bed like when they were children.

 

Sometimes Klaus wonders if Ben wouldn’t be so abrasive, so rough around the edges if he wasn’t cut off from, well, everything and everyone. Ben could be made vulnerable, Klaus thinks, if Klaus was given the chance. He could love away Ben’s hard edges and maybe Ben could fill the empty space in his chest in turn.

 

The one that is made up of longing and what-ifs.

 

Ben glances absently from his book, does a double take when he notices Klaus is staring.

 

“What?” He asks simply, tone indifferent, objective.

 

There’s a moment. A moment between Ben’s question and Klaus’ answer. A moment of infinite possibilities. He could say _“you look beautiful”_. Or he could say _“if you truly liked isolation, you wouldn’t stay all the time”_. Or maybe even _“do you ever miss us?”_ He could even try _“I’m sorry things didn’t turn out different.”_ Or the forbidden _“do you ever think of how it would’ve been?”_

 

“Dude,” Klaus smiles, chuckles, “I am  _so_  high right now.”

 

An emotion that Klaus can’t quite read lingers just a moment on Ben’s face before he gives an absent, acknowledging nod and returns to his reading.

 

Some part of him, the part that still feels, the part he fights to keep numb, dies in that moment.

 

It’s a lie.

 

The last thing he took was a few pills the night before, and a hit off a bong this morning. He’s sober right now and experiencing all this in tragic clarity.

 

He wants so badly to love away Ben’s rough edges and make him vulnerable, but how can he do that when he can’t be vulnerable and honest and open with Ben? How are they supposed to be anything other than stuck when they continue to allow themselves to stagnate, trapped in the past and mourning the future they’ll never have? They can never move forward like that.

 

“Do-“

 

Everything stops. His words, his thoughts, his tongue, his breathing, his heartbeat. Ben is looking at him expectantly and Klaus is loosing himself in Ben’s beauty again, his dark clothing and brooding nature the total opposite of the sunlight creating a warm, glowing halo around him, like he’s some sort of fallen angel.

 

What is he supposed to say?

 

_“Do you ever think about what happened?”_

 

_"Do you ever think about doing things differently?”_

 

_"Do you want me, like I want you?”_

 

_"Does the ache keep you up at night, like an all consuming fire burning you up from the inside out with longing and despair?”_

 

Those are not simple questions. They are not to be spoken lightly, casually like friendly conversation. Every single one of those questions is a challenge to their status quo, their carefully built fragile facade- the junkie and the ghost, the zany duo simply making it through life and milking the world of all its pleasures. There’s no poorly repressed trauma, no unresolved history, no not-quite-unrequited-love-just-love-that-was-ended-unexplored.

 

No. He’s not ready for that, ready for that conversation. Not here. Not in a stranger's place. Not on a summer afternoon. Not when everything feels like it could be perfect in the warm, comfortable silence as long as he ignores the ever present feeling of insatiable absence.

 

“Do you wanna go grab something to eat?” Klaus asks and he's fishing around his pockets, hoping to find a hit of something because he can’t ask the questions.

 

He doesn’t think he’s ready for the answers anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't forgotten Unyielding, just got caught up in requests on tumblr.


End file.
